


my boy

by josiebelladonna, nirvhannahcornell (josiebelladonna), xtinamoon (josiebelladonna)



Series: joeyrotica [3]
Category: Anthrax (US Band), Bandom
Genre: Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Erotica, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gentle Kissing, Male-Female Friendship, Mutual Pining, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Secret Relationship, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 03:24:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21331477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiebelladonna/pseuds/josiebelladonna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiebelladonna/pseuds/nirvhannahcornell, https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiebelladonna/pseuds/xtinamoon
Summary: "We had become like two thieves in the night, our friendship gleaming out towards the rest of the world but we were smoldering in the inside. I had become more than intensely attracted to him, but we kept our romance hidden away from the world. I tried to put up a more businesslike front in order to prove that I had kept him in the backseat but he rode with me there up front, my little lush boy, as we watched the other tail lights reflect on the drenched pavement."
Relationships: Joey Belladonna/Original Female Character
Series: joeyrotica [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1539070





	my boy

**Author's Note:**

> The follow up to a quiet place; named after the Billie Eilish song💜
> 
> “You make me think of storms on the beaches,  
with all the lights off.  
Everything is wrong but it's all right.  
Everything is wrong but it's all right.  
You're the only good thing in my life.”  
-”You’re the Only Good Thing in My Life”, Cigarettes After Sex

February 13, 1985. New York City.  
“Good morning, gorgeous,” I whispered to him there next to me in the hotel bed. Joey rolled over onto his back to show a drowsy little smile at me. A piece of his flyaway black hair spread over his face and down onto his neck and his bare chest. Last night was incredible, after he and I had made out with each other for what felt like hours. I had fallen asleep with my hand on his hip, not too far from his crotch. I awoke to the gentle curve of his hip still underneath my hand.  
He tilted his head back to show me some more of his neck. I snuggled closer to him with my hand rested on his chest. I slid my hand down that silky smooth skin all the way down to his waist. I thought about that little bit of skin in between his belly button and the top of his crotch. I wasn’t up for blowing him again and thus I kept it above the belt.  
“I’m touching your tummy,” I whispered to him, “because your tummy’s nice and soft.”  
“I’ll give you like... a thousand years to stop that,” he replied in a broken voice, “that feels so damn good.”  
I lingered closer to his face and his lips but I never kissed him.  
“I think it’s pretty surreal,” I began, stroking the bit of hair around his belly button, “that we’ve known each other since elementary school and we found each other again. And we both decided to take things to a different level.”  
“Well, of course.” His lips pouted a bit after he stuck out the tip of his tongue for me.  
“I also think it’s pretty surreal that—you just get sweeter and more beautiful—and sexier, with every passing moment—“ I could feel him inching even closer to me: his body was so warm, and thin, and delicate, I almost couldn’t stand it.  
“Let me just—love you so softly,” he whispered to me, running his fingers through my hair. He pressed his lips to mine in such a gentle caress. The very feel of him there next to me sent shivers up my spine. He parted his lips to let out a shaky breath for me. I lifted my other hand to feel his black hair. I pushed that one lock over his chest back onto the pillow; I stroked that silky skin on his chest and his collar. He gazed up at me with his eyes hooded and his lips slightly parted.  
“You’re so gorgeous,” I whispered to him.  
“Drink up, my girl—and remember, no one can know about us,” he advised me.  
“Of course, baby—“ I whispered to him before kissing him again. I ran my hands back down his chest and towards his stomach again. In the back of my mind, I was still in disbelief that I had reunited with Joey, and in the most beautiful way I could ever imagine.  
My best friend. My boyfriend.  
Indeed, I felt the secrecy wrapping up our newfound passion for each other once we had crawled out of bed and got dressed in front of each other. I caught him watching me put on my bra, and then I stopped once he offered to hook it up for me. Once he had sealed it for me, he wrapped his arms around my chest to feel the black lace covering my tits. I let him caress me all the down to my waist until he guided his hands down onto my hips when I touched the backs of his knuckles. I thought of putting up a better front than I already had once we were dressed and checked out of the room for the time being.  
As we strode out of the hotel towards my rental car, and I planned on taking him back over to the recording studio, when I knew no one paid any attention to us, I reached behind him for a slip of my hand into his back pocket. We stopped right at the trunk of the car and he turned into me: my face was right up in his chest and the zipper pull on his leather jacket.  
“I think I’m always gonna be thinking of your butt, baby doll,” I told him over the noise of the street.  
“My butt and my dick, too, I presume,” he added.  
“And everything else I see here.” I hovered my mouth close to his neck again but I didn’t kiss him. I wanted to save it for when we had some more time alone and the sands of this time here was running dry for us. I savored every second I had my hand on the inside of his pocket, my fingers caressing over the fabric covering his soft flesh. His slender body pressed up against me; I could feel his heart pounding away inside of his chest. His thighs rubbed up against me, and his knees quivered.  
“I’m cold,” he stated; I gave him another squeeze of his butt before taking out my hand and guiding him to the car with my arm around him to keep him warm as best as I could until we were before the heater vents. He slipped into the front passenger seat right as the wind picked up outside and I followed suit in the driver’s spot next to him.  
All the way down the block to the Bronx he was silent. Keeping his elbow propped upon the top of the door panel, he simply stared out the window at the traffic and the passing buildings lining both sides of the block. Every so often I took a glimpse over at him and his hair covering part of his face to where I could see only but the tip of his nose and part of his dark lips. I could still taste those lips, and their softness still lingered upon my skin. I wanted to feel him again, just one last time before I saw him off.  
“Well, here we are,” I told him as we pulled up to the curb before the studio. He turned his head to me with a thoughtful look upon his face.  
“I just realized I didn’t give you my number,” he said out of the blue.  
“There’s a napkin in the glove box—“ I pointed out. He opened the door of the compartment and spotted it. I then reached down between my legs for my purse: I fondled about the inside for my pen. I took it out and handed it to him. I watched him scribble it down with haste and then gave it to me.  
“Call me when you get home,” he told me, leaning closer into my face. He gave me a sweet little kiss on the side of the neck. He lingered back to gaze right into my eyes, those big brown marbles staring right into my soul.  
“Call me when you get home,” he repeated.  
“Of course, baby doll,” I answered in a soft voice. He gave me another kiss on the side of the neck before stepping out to the unforgiving cold.

April, 1985. Rochester, New York.  
While at the New York City gallery, I met a fellow artist, albeit one far more well off than me, Francine. She, too, lived in Rochester, but clear across town from my parents’ apartment, and she often shared another place with a roommate back in the city, so she never showed up to this side of town for almost six months out of the year. Lucky for me, she had returned to Rochester for the spring and the summer, and with the news that she had started to date Frank from Anthrax right around the time Joey and I had rekindled things between us. I dared not tell her about the two of us given the promise I made to him, but I did mention the fact he and I went back several years and we were inseparable friends.  
She also followed it up with news that she had rented a place over in the Hamptons, and she invited the two of us out there with her and Frank, or Frankie as she called him, for spring break. She joked about how it was going to be a double date with us there with them, the Franks as I called them, and all I could think was the truth underneath it all.  
Meanwhile, I did call Joey when I returned home the day before Valentine’s Day, and then he called me that next day. It was such an odd feeling to have him call me for that day, because he never said anything romantic to me. I had tried to coax it out of him, but he never went beyond the most tame of sentiments. I figured he was perhaps saving it for later on when we found ourselves alone again in the Hamptons. I made another promise to him that I would call him every Friday night.  
I picked that night because my parents always went out then and I had a few hours to myself. Granted, I was old enough to have someone over to the place for a little while, but the thought of them finding out I was dating a boy whom they hardly knew from my school days left those few hours alone rather precious to me.  
Every call to him seemed to grow tamer, even after I told him about the place out in the Hamptons and he seemed eager to tag along with me and the Franks. In fact, even though I never said anything about it, I had this feeling that it was because we were on the line to my parents’ place. Maybe it bothered him a bit and he didn’t want to fess up, especially after the recording he left on my diary and our encounter together. But either way, I needed to pry something out of him because I needed more than just catching up after ten years apart.  
The time came on the Friday night prior to the trip, after I had returned from a long day at the gallery in town and all I wanted was to hear his voice. But I wanted something else. I wanted to hear him call out my name. I wanted to goad out that filthy animal I heard on the tape recorder that night. That same dirty dog. That smoldering boy who operated by both the seat of his pants as well as the crotch of his pants.  
I picked up the receiver and dialed the number.  
It rang twice.  
“Hello?” he answered.  
“Hi.”  
“Oh, hi, babe. What’s up?”  
“Oh, you know. It’s Friday night, it’s been a long day and a long week altogether.” I licked my lips. “I’m also thinking of the softness of your skin and your dick.”  
Silence on his end. I set down the receiver so as to peel off my coat and unbutton the top two buttons of my blouse to loosen up a bit. I picked up the phone again to hear more silence.  
“Are you there?” I asked him.  
“—yeah.” His voice crackled on the other end. I tossed a bit of hair back from my neck. I knew it was going to get hot in there as I lounged back against the arm of the couch.  
“You know I’m just thinking about touching you and feeling you again. I miss the feel of your skin, all around me and on my tongue.”  
“You know, it’s funny,” he started, clearing his throat and breathing into the phone; “I keep thinking about your tits—“ His voice was breathy and delicate just like on the tape recorder. “—and your coochie, too.”  
I stretched out my legs and set my feet up on the opposite arm of the couch. I placed my free hand underneath the back of my head.  
“Um... what’cha wearing?” he sputtered.  
“Oh, just a little button up blouse—deep pink. I’ve got two of the buttons undone to show off some skin.”  
He sighed into the mouthpiece on his end. There was another sound on his end, one a bit more subtle.  
“I can hear you biting your lip,” I whispered to him.  
“I’m doing that and unbuttoning my pants,” he replied. There was a rustling noise on his end. “There we go. What kind of panties you got on right now?”  
“Some soft blue ones. I’m just thinking about you taking them off for me. Peeling them right off. The other day I got some new lacy ones for our little trip this week.”  
“Oh? What color?”  
“Deep red. I got some black ones, too. And a new bra that’s deep red.”  
“Oh God, that sounds—that sounds hot. Oh, man.” He made a sound off to the side that sounded like he was in pain, but I knew he wasn’t.  
“What you got on right now, baby boy?” I asked him, keeping my voice low and wispy.  
“Just my shirt. Yeah, I just about ready to strip down to wearing nothing at all.”  
I closed my eyes and nibbled on my bottom lip.  
“Ohhhhh, I just thought of that little stripe of skin under your belly button. That really sexy, delicate piece of skin that’s as soft as silk.”  
“Oh, that part where you like to kiss and your motor starts purring?”  
“Yeah... ‘cause that’s where your happy trail is.” I breathe in deep, trying to control the volume of my voice given the fact we have neighbors around us. My parents were the least of our problems once the thought I lived in an apartment building.  
“That same part of skin where just—just—the thought of it gets me wet.” I gasped.  
“Funny, ‘cause I’m touching that little bit of skin right now, baby doll.”  
“Same spot?”  
“Exact same.” I could hear him breathing heavy. “Running my fingers all along it and around my hip bones.”  
“God, I wanna touch you there,” I whispered into the mouthpiece.  
“Touch me on my bones, and then kiss my skin. Fuck—“  
He breathed heavy again. “You know what else is hot?”  
“What’s that?”  
“The thought of my dick right near your toy box.”  
“How ‘bout if I blow you again?”  
“If you blow me, would you suck, too?”  
“If I suck, would you be a good boy and come for Mama?”  
He let out a soft, pained moan.  
“Well, would you come for Mama?” I repeated.  
“What happens if I don’t?” The tone of his voice flattened to a monotone. I licked my lips again and hoisted myself up on my free elbow.  
“Then Mama’s gonna have to give you a little spanking. I’m gonna spank that little butt of yours. I know—“ I could hear him breathing so hard like he was running. “—I know you like that anyway. A little spanking and a kiss right between your thighs.  
He sighed into the phone before speaking again.  
“You know my hot spots,” he remarked in a broken voice.  
“Of course I do, my love. Mmm... I can’t wait to feel you again and be close to you again. The thought of you is making me so hot right now.”  
“I just took all my clothes off.”  
“Did you now?” I smirked at that.  
“Yeah, I’m pretty hard right now. I’ve been trying so hard not to jack off.”  
“Don’t even think about it,” I teased him.  
“Oh, I’m definitely thinking about it.”  
“Don’t you even, you naughty boy. I oughta just come over and spank you right now for even considering it.”  
“Oh fuck me.”  
“Okay then.”  
He let out a little whimper.  
“Fuck me,” I commanded. “I want you. Sweet baby, I want you so badly. My little Injun boy.”  
“I want you even more, my Injun girl. Oh, fuck, I need a moment. Several moments actually.”  
“You comin’ for Mama already, baby?”  
He softly moaned again.  
“Think of my pussy, Joey. Think of it. Same color as my shirt. Deep pink and rosy... and topped off with a sugar glaze. Just wipe it all off, baby.”  
“Oh, fucking—“  
“Touch me.”  
“—fuck.”  
“Touch me right there, baby boy. It’s so good—you know you want it.” I licked my lips yet again. “I’m still gonna give you a spanking anyways. ‘Cause I know how much you love it when I show your booty some love.”  
“Can I suck your titties, too?”  
“You can suck as much as you want, baby boy.”  
“Can you sit on my face?”  
“Oh you’re getting real bad now,” I remarked, twirling a lock of hair around my finger. “I’m gonna have to give you double the spanking. That thick booty of yours can take it all night if I must. Just amazes me how shapely you’ve gotten there.”  
“What, my ass?”  
“Your ass and your hips. And your thighs for good measure.”  
“It’s my equivalent of a little love.”  
“And yet you’re so skinny. Skinny boy with a nice curve to the middle.”  
“Like a.. thin avocado.”  
“So skinny and yet so gorgeous and perfect... I’m just thinking about that morning at the hotel, we were spooning and I had my hand on your hip.”  
“Oh yeah, I remember that now. Totally feeling me up.”  
“I was just about ready to—oh, I dunno.”  
“What? Tell me.”  
“Put my hand right between your thighs.” I sighed right into the phone again. “I wanna feel you again. So much.”  
“When’s our little trip?”  
“Sunday. Sunday morning. We’re gonna be there until Wednesday.”  
“Okay. That’s just flat out perfect.”  
“Let me ask you something, baby boy,” I started again, “what took you so long?”  
“So long for what?”  
“For this. A fistful of smoldering fire right over the phone.”  
“I was kinda wondering when it’d happen, too. You know, after filling you in with everything. I’d feel the tension between us but—it was a guessing game.”  
“I always think it’s because it’s over my parents’ phone,” I confessed.  
“Eh, that too, but not so much, to be honest. I know you’re alone this time of day so figure I’m not too worried about that. It was more like ‘should I say something or should I just wait for Hannah to go so totally hot on me.’”  
“Oh I see. You were just playing with me.”  
“Of course. I’m Mr. Sassafras, remember?”  
“You know what? Just for that, I’m gonna give you triple the spanking. I’m gonna make your ass so tender and even thicker. You’ll be nice and shapely for me in no time.”  
“As if I wasn’t nice and thick enough for you already.” He breathed those words. There was nothing more for me to say to him other than this:  
“Because as we all know... the thicker the meat, the tastier. Make you all for myself, baby boy.” I peered up at the wall clock to find my time there on the couch was precious. “Anyways, I have to go now. I won’t be alone again until manana.”  
“Alright—I’ll put my clothes back on. It’s getting chilly in here anyway.” I heard him pucker his lips and make a kissing sound.  
“Kiss kiss back to you, baby,” I whispered into the mouthpiece before hanging up.

*******************************

I was nervous to see Joey again, but I was also eager to see him and be close to him again. I spent all day Saturday wondering what to wear for our next night alone. I had faith I would have a moment alone to tug him aside because I wanted to even so much as touch his face with my hand. As I packed my light sweaters, I hesitated for a moment with the blouse I wore the night he and I reunited.  
I brought the collar of the shirt right to my nose. Even though I had washed it, I could still smell him, his soft, clean aroma firmly lingering in the threads of the fabric. I lowered the shirt and closed my eyes in hopes to envision him again, to feel his coarse kinky hair against my fingers, his smooth dark lips on my neck and my collar bones, his slim body pressed against me in all of his raw lust and deep seated love for me.  
I rubbed my eyes just as a fluttery feeling emerged in my chest. I thought back to our times together in school, all the times we stayed together in the quiet place. Not once did he ever mention how he felt about me to me, even as we grew older and our bodies began developing more.  
I never could recall anything remotely in that fashion even as my hips filled out and I gained more weight with the whole thing. I never recalled any subtle glances on his part. Unless he really kept it all under wraps for that long, I started to wonder about him.  
But once I thought that, I shook my head in refusal.  
No, Hannah, don’t think like that. He’s your best friend. He loves you. He loves you so much he doesn’t know what to do with himself when you’re not around.  
I also thought back to the conversation we had the night before. He was waiting for me, and if not he was going to say something. I had no doubt I was overthinking all of this once I had remembered all the things I said and all the little primal noises he made on his end. He was being honest about me. But I still needed to dig deeper with him, and these next few days were perfect for such an endeavor. I soon finished packing my things and pictured how the ride over New York state would fair for us.  
At one point that evening, after my parents had gone off to bed, I gave that tape recorder another listen just to hear his breathy voice again. I reached the part in which he said he wanted me to stroke his dick ever so softly while he eats me and found myself breathing harder. I pictured him laying there on his side right next to me with stray tendrils of his wavy hair covering his face and gazing up at me with a longing in his eye and his lips parted. The hem of his shirt was lifted up a bit to show off his hip and his jeans unbuttoned to share part of his lower belly with me. I reached the end of the tape again, and let out a low whistle, and ran my fingers through my hair.

April, 1985. New York State.  
Francine was driving from her place there in Rochester with Frankie to pick me up bright and early that Sunday morning, and then we would swing by Oswego to pick up Joey, and then make the long road trip out to the tip of Long Island and the Hamptons. Each minute of the hour long ride from Rochester over to Oswego coaxed a flurry of butterflies into my stomach. My palms felt a little damp by the time we reached the final bend in the road before the sight of the evergreens and the low ridge on the southern side of town entered our view. I directed her the way to Joey’s little flat in the trees, not too far from the shore of the lake.  
We pulled up to the curb and hesitated for a second.  
“Is that him right there?” she wondered aloud. It took me a moment before I recognized him, straddling the concrete planter wall there at the front of the complex. I eyed the crotch of his jeans before I could say anything to her.  
“That’s him alright, babe,” Frankie replied to her. Joey lifted his head and nodded at us as he closed his legs and climbed over the wall. I caught a glimpse of his butt and his hip, both emphasized by the snug dark blue denim of his jeans.  
“Skinny little boy legs,” I heard her mutter under her breath. I didn’t mind: I loved the fact Joey has stayed so lithe and delicate all this time and maintained that softness. I couldn’t imagine him, or want him, any other way.  
His hair billowed back over his shoulder in the crisp breeze coming in from the lake, and his face was obscured by his big round mirrored sunglasses. He showed me a sweet little grin upon recognizing me through the car window. I gazed straight ahead to Frank’s plush black hair all around his head and his jaw gyrating from his chewing a big fat piece of gum. I paid more attention to the sound of Joey opening the back hatch and setting his overnight bag there in the floor of the way back: the butterflies were going insane inside my stomach as he opened the back door to the left of me. He slid into the leather seat next to me, and leaned in close to my face for a second as he closed the door behind him.  
“‘Mornin’, Joe,” Frankie greeted him.  
“‘Mornin’, Frankie and Frankie—and Hannah.”  
I felt my face grow warm at the sound of his saying my name. Five hours there in the backseat with him.  
He never took off his sunglasses as we headed out to the narrow highway taking us down to Syracuse, but I knew he kept his eye on me the whole way to the city.  
Sometime around the outskirts of Syracuse, I felt his hand rest upon my thigh. I took a glimpse down at his fingers as they caressed about the top layer of black twill. I peered up at his face as the tip of his tongue slithered out from his lips. Against the glare of the road, I noticed his eyes staring back at me, hooded and enticing me to a moment when the time was right.  
In fact, when we stopped for fuel upon leaving town, and Frank had run off to the bathroom, Joey and I were left alone there in the backseat. When the Franks climbed out he had removed his hand from my leg; I told Francine I needed a drink of water but I wondered if he wanted a sip given he could hardly keep his hands off me.  
Soon, he peeled off his sunglasses to show me his big brown eyes riddled with that come-hither look. He rested his elbow on the top of the seat and the side of his head inside of the palm of his hand. I relaxed right next to him and scanned his slim body from his head all the way down to the tightly laced black Chuck Taylors on his feet.  
“Not enough time here,” he remarked, licking his lips.  
“Take a drink, baby,” I encouraged him, gesturing to the water bottle in between us, “‘cause you’re a thirsty boy.”  
“I’m gonna need more than a drink of water, baby girl.”  
I thought about him fingering me again.  
“Oh God—“ I breathed out and I inched closer to him. He tossed his hair back which in turn directed my attention to his gorgeous neck.  
“—oh—still just as sexy and lovely as ever.”  
“Well, it’s only been a couple of months,” he pointed out. “Not much has changed since the last time we were intimate.”  
I could feel the dampness coming on right in between my thighs. I wanted to make out with him there in the backseat but I needn’t risk it, especially once Frankie climbed back into the front and Francine followed in the driver’s seat next to him. But while their backs were turned and they paid more attention to each other than us, Joey leaned into my ear and whispered in the softest, lightest, most delicate whisper I’ve had heard escape from his mouth, “touch me and grab my package, baby doll. Please—touch me.” His voice was far lighter and more whispered than on the tape. He ran his tongue about the edge of his lips. I turned my head to better look into those rich deep irises, the same which I felt so close and comfortable with over and over again.  
“Touch me,” he mouthed.  
“Soon,” I promised him with a nod and a raise of a finger to his lips, soft and a bit tender from perhaps nibbling on it while awaiting us.  
The whole five hours to the outskirts of the city he lay his hand on top of my thigh. Every so often, his fingers slithered closer to the zipper of my jeans but they recoiled whenever either of the Franks turned their heads towards us, either in conversation to one another or to us. But he never removed his hand from there with each passing mile, even as the New York skyline rose up against the afternoon sunshine.  
We bypassed most of downtown and a place in which Frankie told us Anthrax liked to hang out at in the very heart of Manhattan, a low pale brick building at the corner of a bunch of restaurants. I pictured Joey and myself having dinner before making out in the back room of wherever that place was, nestled in the multi-storied buildings there below the side of the freeway.  
It would be another half an hour before we reached the rim of Long Island and another hour out to the lush greenery under the veil of opulence making up the Hamptons. I almost felt out of place there given I was the poorer of the two artists, and I knew Frankie and Joey were both of the working class type, but Francine had us rest assured here. We came here to relax with our boyfriends for a few days, or so I saw it. At that point, the sun hung low over the mainland behind us, and I was eager to have a bite to eat and then have a bit of time alone with Joey.  
She guided us to the cute little cabin she had rented out for us overlooking part of the shore and a stretch of the Atlantic. Frankie rolled down the window and we were met with the cool crisp oceanic breeze, riddled with the smell of salt and fresh cut grass. Once we parked before the front deck of the cabin, Joey climbed out first to stretch his arms and his back; I followed suit to meet up with him on the other side of the car. He folded his arms atop the crown of his head once I entered his sight: part of his shirt lifted up to show off his belly button and part of his happy trail.  
“Hey, slinky boy,” I greeted him right into his face so the Franks wouldn’t hear me. “Slinky, sexy boy.”  
I wanted to touch his chest and that piece of skin above his belt but Francine had already climbed out of the front seat at that point. He set down his arms so as to fix his shirt and hoist up his belt. As Frankie’s head poked out from the other side of the car, I took notice to the fact Joey never took his hands off of the belt loops of his jeans, right near his hips. I wanted to touch him but I also needed to help out Frankie with the luggage into our cabin.  
The inside was a bit small for four people but cozy: I claimed the second room on the left down the hall because it had the comfiest looking bed with soft navy blue pillows and a heavy bedspread to keep me warm when the night fell upon us. I kept the door ajar enough to hear the Franks speaking to each other and laughing it up down the hall. I tipped over my suitcase to better open it and unpack my clothes.  
As I hung up my raincoat in the closet, I decided it to be better if I changed out of my traveling clothes, so I kicked off my shoes and peeled off my jeans. I stood there in my underwear and my T-shirt as I folded up my jeans and took them over to the dresser in the corner of the room. I stooped over to lay it down inside the drawer, and I felt my shirt ride up my back and my hips. Once I stood upright, I heard a clearing of the throat behind me.  
I turned to see Joey’s head poking in from the hall. I lay my hand upon my chest as he showed me a playful little smirk.  
“That’s a cute look,” he remarked, raising his eyebrows at me.  
“It’s just a T-shirt and panties,” I retorted with a roll of the eyes.  
“Just a T-shirt and panties? I don’t think so.” He dropped his gaze to my hips and thighs; I rolled my eyes at him again and gave him a chuckle.  
“You are such a guy,” I teased him.  
“Well, duh,” he jeered back before showing me a mischievous grin. “Go comatose for me, baby.”  
“I’ll go comatose when I feel like it, you dirty dog.” I tugged down on my shirt to hide the piece of belly that was poking out. I shut the drawer and slinked back to my suitcase laying on the floor. I stripped off my T-shirt so now I squatted there in my underwear. He slipped into the room and closed the door part of the way so we could still hear the Franks down the hall. He ran his fingers through his hair before stepping closer to me.  
“Remember, baby doll. I’m not just a damn Injun but an Italian Stallion, too.” I raised my head at his looming before me with his hands on his hips.  
“Is that why you’ve got such a good sized package on you?” I teased him. “You’re hung like the horse your daddy gave you in the stable?”  
He licked his lips. “Maybe—” he stammered. “Or it could be because you just can’t resist me.”  
“Oh, I can resist.”  
“Is that a challenge?”  
“It can be if you want it to be—big boy.” I stood to my feet so he could see me in my bra and my panties, mismatched but all for him. He nibbled on his bottom lip at the very sight of me: even though he still had his hands on his hips, I could see him relaxing.  
“It’s a challenge then, sweet cheeks,” he said in a soft voice. “I do my thing, waving my dick in the wind and you do your thing, pushing your pussy around the place. And we keep our thing platonic for the vacay here.”  
“Just one thing—” I reached down to the crotch of his jeans and ultimately his actual crotch. I could feel the warm flesh there, a little bit full from the flirting, right there right between his thighs.  
“Ball’s in my court.” I lifted myself onto my toes to kiss him on the lips. I pulled back to gaze into his flabbergasted face. “We both want it. We both think it. But—” I rubbed the pad of my thumb over him to mess with him a bit. “—this is between us and us only. We’re both attracted to each other but Frankie and Frankie can’t ever know. Ball’s in my court and you’re the one with the hand.”  
I kissed him again, this time a much longer and firmer kiss on the lips. He was as warm and smooth as ever, like a cup of coffee in the heart of Iroquois country during the sunrise. I pulled back to stare into his face once again, but I never let go of his crotch.  
“I’m gonna have such a hard time,” I confessed.  
“Hence, the challenge,” he teased me. “Although to be fair, I’m trying really hard not to feel hard at the moment.” He eyed my chest and I could feel him breathing heavy at the very sight.  
“Fuck,” he gasped.  
“What’s the matter?” I played back with him, fluttering my eyelashes at him.  
“Your tits are so big and tasty--you’re so sexy, Hannah. I need--”  
“Ah, ah, ah.” I wagged a finger at him.  
“God dammit.”  
“Ball’s in my court.” He winced and that was when I let go of him. In fact, once I had stepped back from him, I unhooked my bra and beheld my nipples to him. He crossed his legs as he pressed himself against the wall. I was wearing only my panties as I bent over the suitcase. All the little gasps he made at the sight of my ass looming right before him.  
I picked up a clean blouse from the interior and I was about to put it on over my head when I felt him push me onto the bed. Before I could roll over onto my back, he lay down on top of me. His fingers curled around my wrists; he brought his face closer to my ear, so close that part of his hair fell upon most of my arm to where it felt like a coarse blanket.  
“You sure the ball’s in your court?” he whispered. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure I’m the one with the balls.”  
“Big luscious--balls--” I groaned out. I was as thirsty as him. This was a bad idea. I turned my head to see his tongue lapping out of his mouth like a serpent.  
“You gonna be a good boy and come for Mama?” I snarled back at him.  
“Not if baby makes you come first--”  
“Joe?” Frankie’s voice floated from down the hall.  
“God dammit.” He bowed his head against my upper back. He may have wanted it rough there but he was still soft no matter what.  
“Joe? Where are you?”  
He lifted himself off of me and headed for the door. I pushed myself off of the bed and rolled onto my side. I still had the blouse in hand: I was still going to go braless there no matter what happened. I lay there with my breasts relaxed upon my chest. The nipples tightened up, and I had no idea if it was from the chill in the room or the fact Joey was on top of me and we were almost caught.  
Something incredibly hot about that.

*******************************

That evening, during dinner time, Joey sat next to me at the table in the kitchen. Every so often, he peered over at me with those hooded eyes, those deep eyes seducing me even when he never intended. I knew for sure he wanted it. I itched for it, but it was a risk, especially with the Franks right there with us. They were right across the hall from my room, too, so I had no idea if Joey would be sneaking inside and crawling into bed next to me that night.  
I wanted him next to me in bed when the rain clouds formed over there on the eastern side of Long Island. But when the time came for us to turn in for the night, I went to bed alone.  
Before closing the door behind me, I caught one final glimpse of Joey’s face next door before he stepped into his room. He was thinking it. He wanted it, and I wanted it, even though we had made a challenge with each other that it wouldn’t happen here. I stepped into the room picturing him sliding into bed next to me in the middle of the night. I couldn’t get that look in his eyes out of my head, that look that seduced me and took off my clothes without even trying.  
As I lay down in bed and turned off the light, I thought about his butt and how much I wanted to rub it. He wanted me to rub his dick, but I wanted to touch his ass. I just wanted to touch him, period.  
I snuggled down in the comfy bed and fell asleep in mere minutes. He was the last thing on my mind.  
But I woke up to the feel of his hand on my hip. The first thing coming to me upon returning to consciousness was a smile on my face. I thought for sure he had crept into the room to sleep with me, and I was positive he came in here to love me.  
“Hannah? You awake?” he whispered to me.  
“I am now.” I rolled onto my back. “What’s up, baby?”  
“Grab your things. Let’s get out of here.”  
“What?”  
“It’s dangerous to be here,” he told me. “We’ve gotta get out of here and get back to upstate.”  
“What’s going on?” I asked him, gazing into the shadow covering part of his face. In the dim light, I watched him nibble on his bottom lip.  
“There are people outside asking for you. Frankie says they’re all tabloids because they’re glomming onto him and Francine like flies on shit. One of them said they saw me and you together. And they’re trying to come for us. They’re trying to get dirt on us and they’re pretty ruthless about it, too.”  
I gasped at that. I sat up and reached over to switch on the lamp on the nightstand. He shielded his face from the sudden bright light.  
“What about them? Frankie and Francine?”  
“This is their cabin. She told me they’re gonna stay here ‘til Wednesday. But you and I--we have to get out of this place.”  
“How’re we gonna get back, though? She drove us out here.”  
“She’s letting us borrow her car. Charlie’s coming over so they can go back to the Bronx together, and then they’ll drive back to Rochester for her car. Now, come on.”  
I climbed out of the bed and hurried over to the dresser for my jeans. He opened the closet for my coat.  
“It’s pouring rain out,” he told me, helping put the coat on over me. I slipped my arms into the sleeves and then tended to my jeans, which I crammed into my suitcase. Once I closed it, I turned off the light and he led me out to the hall.  
“They’re all out front,” he told me, “you hear ‘em?”  
Low chatter over the pouring rain caught my ear. “Yeah!”  
We ducked into the kitchen and made way to the side door. Joey led me to the porch, where we were met with a torrential seaside downpour and thrashing tides within a few feet of us. He held my hand as we ran blind through the darkness to Francine’s car. In the dim light from the nearby harbor, we reached the driver’s side; I flung open the door behind it and threw the case into the back seat and shut again before I rounded the trunk to the other side. I climbed in right as Joey fumbled with the keys for the right one.  
The car roared to life and we backed out of the space. I stared out the driver’s side window at the sight of the Franks on the front porch speaking to a small crowd of people as if it was sunny out.  
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Joey grunted as he shifted into drive. We sped out of there and back to the main road.  
We had become like two thieves in the night, our friendship gleaming out towards the rest of the world but we were smoldering in the inside. I had become more than intensely attracted to him, but we kept our romance hidden away from the world. I tried to put up a more businesslike front in order to prove that I had kept him in the backseat but he rode with me there up front, my little lush boy, as we watched the other tail lights reflect on the drenched pavement.  
Once we had left the City, and the rural darkness of the night fell upon us like a heavy tapestry, he let out a sigh of relief.  
“Insane,” I remarked.  
“Yeah. To think you and I have the press coming after us now. Unreal. I’ve heard so many horror stories about them, like how they stalk musicians and actors and all manner of famous people. It kinda... scares me in fact. That thought of having everything appropriated from you and used against you.”  
“Well--it’s only four hours back to Oswego,” I pointed out to him.  
“And then another hour to Rochester...” His voice trailed off. I peered at the clock on the dashboard, reading twelve thirty. We would return home at sunrise, and just in time for breakfast. I had no idea if he was willing to drive for that long and if anything, I’d be more than happy to take over at any given point. I spotted a sign for Monticello in a few miles, and I hoped we would stop soon enough.  
“This is a terrible time,” he started. “But my dick itches like crazy right now.”  
“Then scratch.”  
“No, I don’t mean that kind of itchy.”  
I peered over at him. In the back glow of the headlights, I could make out that alluring glimmer in his eyes again.  
“Monticello is in a few miles,” he noted. “I say we stop there for a bit.”  
“I agree. I mean--we are alone after all.”  
“We are alone.”  
Indeed, once the first exit entered our view through the rain, Joey turned off and we headed onto the main street of this tiny village about eighty miles outside of New York City. We turned right at the first stoplight and pulled off onto the side of the street, into the darkness in front of a barn. The rain continued to pour over our heads, and so when he killed the engine and the headlights, he unbuckled and climbed over the center console to the back seat. I heard him sliding my suitcase off of the seat onto the floor.  
“Okay, baby doll, come back here.”  
It wasn’t easy task for me given I weighed more than him but I managed to peel off my raincoat and climb over the seat. I slipped and landed on top of him.  
“Oh--” I gasped, stroking his chest. “Oh, hello--”  
I felt something soft and warm and pillowy under my hand.  
“We’re both still in our jammies,” I noted.  
“We are,” he breathed out. The rain pattered even harder over our heads, but neither of us had a care in the world. His body was warm and more enticing than ever. I kissed his lips and his neck; his hands glided up my back to my hair. I kissed him again and again, each one I felt myself growing more aroused.  
“Mmm... oh, Joey... baby... sexy sweet baby...”  
Just like on the first evening together, I opened the buttons on his pajama shirt. His chest was warm and his stomach was like silk.  
“--mmm, baby--” I whispered into his face. I could feel myself growing moist with every gentle caress against my body. I breathed harder as he kissed my neck and held onto my love handles. I felt his tongue run along the side of my neck.  
“Swish--” he groaned before giving me another lick. I lowered myself down to his chest for a bunch of kisses.  
“Oh--Oh, fuck--” He loved that as he groaned inside of his throat. I ran my fingers down his stomach to his belly button and that stripe of delicate skin beneath.  
“--fuck--love me--” he gasped.  
“I am, baby,” I whispered into his face. A bright flash of white light shone over the top of the back seat. It was followed by another one.  
“Oh fuck, the paparazzi!” he cried out, his voice breaking. I scrambled off him and he clambered back over the center console to the driver’s seat. I almost fell ass over teakettle into the passenger’s seat; he fumbled the keys again and started up the car again. We roared out of there down the street to the next corner. I had no idea where we were headed, and I don’t think he knew, either. But by some miracle, we found our way back to the highway, which would eventually take us back to Syracuse and then back home to Oswego and Rochester.  
The one thing I didn’t understand was how did they find us at the Hamptons given Joey was such a newcomer in Anthrax. But then I thought of myself, and all those reporters I spoke to at my art shows. I recalled to when we stayed at the hotel a couple of months back. A sinking sensation emerged in the pit of my stomach as we pulled over again, this time in Binghamton, at the base of the Catskills.  
And this time had fizzled out, but I knew more was coming for us. I climbed out of the car to stretch my legs and he for a cup of coffee. He returned with a chocolate bar for me, and soon we returned to the road. It would be almost four-thirty in the morning before I recognized the southern edge of Oswego. But we went a different direction, one that Francine never took us on the way out. Indeed, we passed our elementary school and snaked around the old neighborhoods. It all felt so familiar, even in the darkness and the incoming light of the sunrise.  
I remembered that one curb, the one before all the trees and the bushes, and the stretch of Lake Ontario.  
“The quiet place,” I said aloud. He switched off the engine as we parked at the curb. I climbed out first and he followed suit. The grass remained the same, and the hockey rink was still surrounded by those bushes. He set his arm around me as we strode across the grass to that old familiar spot again. Prior to reaching those bushes, I froze. He tugged at me a bit but the thought nagged at me too much.  
“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned.  
“I hoped no one saw us at the hotel,” I pleaded to him.  
“The--The place we were before Valentine’s Day?”  
“Yes. I feel like this is my fault. It’s my fault I kept rubbing your butt and wanting to kiss you.”  
“Hey. Don’t be like that.”  
He clasped his hands on either side of my face and he leaned in for the biggest open lipped kiss he had ever given me. The feeling sent shivers down my spine towards my hips, and right in between my thighs, and down to my toes. He let go to look at me right in the face with the light from the street and the twilight reflecting onto his skin.  
“Okay. Please don’t be like that, Hannah. If you feel all of this is your fault, then it’s my fault, too. You know it’s my fault that I sneaked into the gallery and left that recording there for you to find. It’s my fault that I’ve been missing you ever since you moved away and I could never tell you that I am painfully and hopelessly attracted to you until that night in Yonkers.”  
“Wait. What are you saying?”  
“I have always been attracted to you. I have always seen you as the sexiest chick to grace this beautiful earth, ever since you and I had our very first encounter here in the quiet place. I have always liked you. I have always wanted you. Ever since we were kids. But I never could tell you.”  
“Why?”  
He swallowed and shifted his weight. He bowed his head so part of his bangs shielded his eyes from my view.  
“Because I’m an Injun,” he replied, his voice trembling. “An ugly little fuck whom people like to stare at and treat like shit. It’s because of my own skin I never could tell you how I feel about you.”  
I leaned back into his face for an open kiss on his part. I also stuck my hand into the back of his head to feel his kinky flyaway hair at the roots. I slipped a bit of tongue in between his teeth before releasing my lips from his.  
“If you’re ugly then explain that,” I whispered into his mouth. He had that look in his eye again, but this time his eyes were wide open rather than hooded with that come-hither stare. I threw my arms around him.  
“—oh--oh, come here, baby. Baby boy—sexy, sexy boy—oh—“  
I ran my fingers through his dark hair as I kissed him so gently on the lips. He put his arms around me to where he grasped onto my butt. He held me so close to his soft slim body, that beautiful body I was more than attracted to and felt so safe with. He backed up and almost stumbled into the bushes, but I caught him by the waist before he fell too far. He led me down to that same exact spot, but I wanted to hold him even more.  
“Joey...” I whispered into his face.  
“Hannah... honey pie—“  
“I love you.”  
“I love you, too.”  
He wrapped his arms around me as we sank down into the bushes, that same place we had always known, the quiet place. He guided me down to that big branch, which he leaned back against: he opened his legs to make room for me. I leaned upon his chest and caressed him down. The feeling around us was almost too much to bear, but I almost couldn’t grab my fill of it, from the fact we were in the quiet place again to make love to the sunrise, to the fact that little Indian boy I met in the library had become my boy. The only boy I ever loved other than my own father.


End file.
